


explain.

by itjustkindahappened



Series: skam fic week [3]
Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: (also canon compliant), (did u mean canon compliant), ???????? why am i so bad at tagging, Bathrooms, M/M, Meet-Cute, Politics, Strangers to Lovers, isak n even are match makers, marx stan jonas, mikael is a ray of sunshine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-16
Updated: 2017-08-16
Packaged: 2018-12-16 07:15:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11823795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itjustkindahappened/pseuds/itjustkindahappened
Summary: And here he is tonight again, standing in an alarmingly small stall at his favorite bar, in front of a quote he’d written just last week. You’d think the situation would be the same as any other. But it’s not.The first requisite for the happiness of the people is the abolition of religion,says the wall to him. It’s nothing new, and it’s nothing on his own to make Jonas’ eyebrows furrow like they are right now.No. What has Jonas this startled, is a single new word, added with a dark blue sharpie right under his own.Explain.Or, Jonas writes anti-capitalist messages in public bathrooms. Someone answers him and he thinks he might've found the love of his life.





	explain.

The whole thing starts because Jonas is annoyed and bored, really.

He remembers being at a bar and going to the bathroom—mostly to just take a break from the horrendous music playing and also to an extent Isak and Even’s drunken PDAing—and as he’s in there he lets his eyes travel across the numerous drawings of misshaped dicks and nonsensical scribblings of words on there. Most of it are either profanities, phone numbers, slightly racist jokes or slightly sexist jokes.

Nothing is of value. Nothing is pensive, or even thought twice about in the slightest. Nothing _means anything._

And tonight is just one of those nights where Jonas simply appears to be easily ticked off. He feels irritation grow in his chest and purse his mouth bitterly as he reads every single sentence written on these walls, hoping to at least find _one_ that’s not completely mindless, and failing miserably. That’s the thing he hates—the mindlessness of it all. The mass consumption of this society in which people just receive and receive and receive, gorging on all things they can but taking nothing to heart, letting themselves be controlled by an attention-thirsty media and money-hungry companies—swallowing norm after norm deliberately construed by corporations to benefit their sales numbers, letting lazy advertising and bad sit-coms shape their world into something thin, materialized, shallow. Shallow to the point where their minds don’t run deeper than thinking it funny to write “fuck bitches, get money” in a bathroom stall of their local bar.

And Jonas had just happened to have a pen with him that night too, so without thinking further he leans forward and he writes:

 _The production of too many useful things results in too many useless people_.

And it’s not like it’s a revolutionary, game-changing thing, but it stands in contrast to the rest of the infuriating messages on there, and Jonas kind of likes the way it looks.

He keeps a marker on him every time they go out after that, as he starts writing in every single public bathroom he can access. _Revolutions are the locomotive of history_ , he writes in one, _the ruling ideas of each age have ever been the ideas of its ruling class_ he writes in another, _the last capitalist we hang will be the one who sold the rope_ in an additional one (that was a _particularly_ bad day). And it’s not like he thinks it makes a difference on the world around him, but it kind of makes him momentarily feel better, and he’s also found that the sensation of a good marker against the smooth wall of a public restroom is pretty therapeutic in itself. So, he keeps it up.

And here he is tonight again, standing in an alarmingly small stall at his favorite bar, in front of a quote he’d written just last week. You’d think the situation would be the same as any other. But it’s not.

 _The first requisite for the happiness of the people is the abolition of religion_ , says the wall to him. It’s nothing new, and it’s nothing on his own to make Jonas’ eyebrows furrow like they are right now.

No. What has Jonas this startled, is a single new word, added with a dark blue sharpie right under his own.

**Explain.**

Jonas doesn’t even know how to react at first. No one’s ever answered or even acknowledged any of his writings before. He always makes sure to pick topics with room for discussion, just in case by some miracle, someone would end up provoked enough by it to want to talk about it. But it’s never actually _happened_. Jonas never actually thought it would, either. But here he is now, and sometime this week, a stranger was in this bathroom stall, saw his quote, and decided they wanted an explanation. They wanted something _profounder_.

So with a shaky breath, Jonas uncaps his marker, and he replies back.

_When it comes to our society, religion is the one thing that causes us most problems in terms of starting wars, fatalities, and dividing of people. Therefore, by erasing it, we as a community would be much happier. Agree or disagree?_

 

~

 

When Jonas drops by a few days after, just out of plain curiosity, there’s an answer for him already. It only continues from there.

 

~

**I disagree. I think that if we erase religion we’ll just find other things to start wars and kill people over. Religion has been around for as long as functioning societies have. It’s clearly something we need. Do you know why?**

_You sound like more of an expert on that particular subject, but I guess it roots in a want to belong. That’s what all diversion humans create root in. We feel good about having a group of people who we know think the same way or enjoy the same things or have the same values as we do._

**Yes. However, religion is more fundamental than that. It’s what billions of people base their entire world view and morals on. It’s no less important to humankind than any political ideologies.**

_I get what you mean. So… Basically, because all ideologies or religions or other life-shaping guidance come with both good or bad sides and have enough power over people to cause fatality, you cannot just erase one of them and think things will improve? …Does this mean we should just go for an anarchy, then? No hierarchies at all._

**I guess so. Let’s overthrow the government.**

_Good. I’ve always wanted to. While we’re kind of at the topic, the patriarchy: real or a myth?_

**Painfully real.**

_We’re going to get along just peachy._

~

 

You’d think that after walking in on Even and Isak in compromising positions three times before, Jonas would’ve learned to knock by now.

He hasn’t. Tragically, unfortunately, devastatingly enough, Jonas has learned neither knocking nor texting to announce his impending presence when he heads over to see Isak, and he really needs to get a fucking grip on that already, because he’s now sitting at the top of the stairs trying to recover from the image of his two friends in compromising positions yet again. He almost wants to laugh.

He should probably just leave and come back in an hour or two. Give them some time. Be a good friend. So with that thought, he puts his hands down on the ground to heave himself up, but he’s stopped in his tracks by a voice he’s never heard before.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost, man. You okay?”

Jonas looks up from his feet and into a pair of deep, brown eyes.

The minute he realizes that the boy in front of him is in fact extremely pretty, he makes sure to avert his gaze to not be caught doing something embarrassing, like staring for the next thirty seconds. Which he kind of wishes he could, because they boy’s got the softest looking lips Jonas has ever seen. Pink and plush and currently widened to reveal a blinding smile that makes his eyes twinkle like they hold tiny stars.

“Always knock when you’re entering a honeymoon-phase couple’s apartment,” he instead smiles depreciatingly.

The boy widens his eyes comically and snorts out a laughter.

“Are you possibly leaving Isak and Even’s apartment?”

Jonas’ faint smile turns into a confounded frown, and the boy just laughs again. He’s got a great laugh. Very melodic and pretty. Kind of like a rippling stream.

“I’m Mikael,” he introduces himself. “Even’s best friend.”

Mikael. Jonas has heard his name in conversations more than once, but like with most of Even’s friends, he hasn’t actually met them.

(He thinks maybe he should change that. If only to see Mikael and his nice mouth again.)

“Jonas,” he smiles crookedly. “Isak’s best friend. And I’d not go in there right now if I were you. They’re—probably going to be occupied for a while.”

Mikael makes a disappointed noise and looks at the closed door for a moment. It doesn’t take long before his eyes narrow into something playful—a tad impish, to be honest—and he turns back to Jonas.

“But it’s such a good opportunity to ruin their morning, isn’t it? I bet if I walk in there now they’ll be too annoyed from having been interrupted twice in just a few minutes to continue. Should teach them not to fuck in broad daylight.”

The more Mikael speaks, the more conflicted Jonas gets between being endlessly flustered and thoroughly amused.

“I do like your way of thinking,” he ponders, “but are you really willing to live with that image etched into your mind for the rest of your life? Is that worth it?”

Mikael scrunches up his nose and he looks very cute doing it and Jonas’ heart doesn’t skip a tiny beat at all.

“Well, tell me where they were then, so I can like, not look there.”

“They’re—in bed?”

“Wow. Boring,” Mikael huffs. “You’d think they’d be more inventive. But I’ll take it.”

And with that, he hurries past Jonas to throw the door open, immediately exclaiming an:

“ _Even_ , buddy, have you missed me—oh, shit. I’m really sorry!”

He starts apologizing profusely and Jonas can hear Even’s aggravated “ _Mikael_!” from further inside the apartment.

“I did not mean for that to happen, I’ll see myself out— _ow_!” Mikael shows up in the doorway again just in time for Jonas to be able to see him be hit in the face with a pillow. “You’re really breaking my heart, Even, do I mean nothing to you anymore? Disgraceful.”

And with that he steps outside again, a hand covering his mouth and the crinkles by his eyes full of amusement as he carefully closes the door behind him.

“They’re pissed?” Jonas guesses.

“They’re pissed,” Mikael confirms, practically beaming. “I bet you they’ll open the door again in about thirty seconds.”

Jonas doesn’t oppose Mikael’s statement, and he’s right to because after only a little while of waiting, the door is burst open to reveal Jonas’ best friend standing in a pair of sweatpants, a grey hoodie, and a very prominent frown.

“Come the fuck in, then,” Isak grumbles. “Since we’re apparently throwing a fucking house party this Sunday afternoon and everything, just step inside, make yourselves at home.”

 

~

 

Mikael is a film student, just like Even, and they’ve been friends since elementary school. He has a couple of birthmarks dotting his face like a star constellation and he uses his hands a lot when he talks, and Jonas is absolutely one hundred percent not endeared.

(He is.)

He honestly feels like this must be some kind of illusion, because there’s no way he’s catching feelings for his best friend’s boyfriend’s best friend. That shit’s only real in Disney Channel shows. It just doesn’t happen in real life.

Maybe he’s projecting because it’s been so long since he’s been in a relationship. Maybe it’s just because Mikael is pretty and funny and Jonas is only human.

Or maybe it has to do with the fact that he’s been spending a lot of his time thinking about and talking to a random stranger discussing political ideologies with him via bathroom doodling, and that he’s starting to see their face in random strangers on the street. And if that’s the case, it’s not fair to Mikael at all and Jonas is sure it’ll pass.

 

~

 

 _New subject to go back on the quote that started all of this: what_ does _a completely peaceful society look like?_

**I don’t know. I think a society like that is unachievable. (doesn’t mean we shouldn’t strive for it, though.)**

_… Explain._

**Heyyy. I can’t believe we’re on stealing-each-other’s-lines basis :’)** **Well.** **I just think, objectively, there’s no single ‘right’ way to run a society. Because people will always have different opinions on what exactly that right way is, and therefore some will always be left unhappy with the system and when that happens, they’ll try to defy it. For an ideology to benefit every person in a society, every person must also agree with the ideology and believe that it’ll do everyone good. And that’s why no ideology—especially ones with roots in economics—can really benefit all. You get me?**

_Surprisingly, I do. That’s a good point. However, where’s your passion, stranger? You can’t actually be this level-headed. It’s politics, man, pick a side._

**Oh, I’ve picked a side. I’m just trying to be objective for the sake of our conversation.**

_And your subjective view would be…?_

**Capitalism can choke and mass-consumption will probably trigger the Armageddon.**

_~~Marry me~~ _ _It appears we have reached an agreement. I’ll probably tattoo that sentence onto my forehead. It’s a great summary of what I want to convey with my existence._

**Please do. Maybe then it’d be easier for me to find out who you are.**

_~_

Jonas reads it over and over, his teeth deeply sunken into his bottom lip.

Honestly? He wants nothing more than for this stranger to find out who he is—and vice versa, even more urgently. It’s such a comfortable thing they’ve found here, effortlessly jumping back and forth between numerous different subjects over the past couple of weeks, and it’s _real_. It means something. It gives Jonas something, and from the looks of it, his anonymous friend feels the same way. There’s an overwhelming kind of mutual understanding between the two. So, yes. He wants to know who this is.

He just doesn’t know _how_. 

He’s not exactly comfortable with sharing his phone number in here. He could write a time and place to meet up, but where would they meet? What time? What if the person can’t make it? What if someone other than his stranger will decide to show up just to take the piss?

Lost on what to do with this whole situation but desperately wanting to do _something_ , Jonas realizes with dread that it’s time to ask for advice on it. Just how he’ll do that while still sounding sane is a complication he’s yet to solve.

 

~

 

“So let me get this right.” Isak’s eyes are narrowed incredulously as he props an elbow up on the table. “You’ve been insisting on going to Lawo every weekend… Because you’re having an anonymous political debate with someone… On a public bathroom wall?”

They’re seated in Isak and Even’s apartment, the sun is poking through their yellow curtains and tinting everything is warm colors, and it’s so picturesque and so unfitting with the faint twinge of despair that Jonas is currently feeling.

Jonas purses his mouth.

“Okay, so when you put it like that it sounds kind of weird—”

“ _Kind of_?”

“I need to know who they _are_.” It comes out almost as a whine, but Jonas figures that at this point he has no dignity left anyway. “I swear I’ve found my soulmate here.”

“It could literally be anyone. What if it’s like, someone who’s really old? Or a serial killer?”

“Don’t you think I’ve considered that? I have. I just… What if it’s _not_?”

Isak’s raised eyebrows are making it clear that he’s still judging Jonas, but he tilts his head and bites his cheek pensively, anyway.

“I would tell you to like, write your phone number on there, but considering the amount of creepy fucks you might attract from that, I don’t think it’s the way to go.”

“Yeah,” Jonas hangs his head dejectedly. “It just—out of all the people using those bathrooms one of them actually decided to take the time and answer and I just want to have _face to face_ conversations with this person, you know? Where I don’t have to wait for days to get like two sentence answers. It just sucks.”

“What sucks?”

That’s when Even decides to emerge from the kitchen, impressively holding two cups of tea and one cup of coffee in his hands. He puts them down in front of Isak, Jonas and himself respectively, and then takes a seat.

“Jonas has found the love of his life,” Isak enlightens him, and Even wiggles his eyebrows at Jonas.

“That doesn’t sound like a sucky situation.”

“It wouldn’t be if I just, like, knew who they were,” Jonas says, shoulders slouching.

“Jonas can’t communicate like normal people,” Isak explains, “so he’s been bonding over politics with someone by writing each other messages in a bathroom stall at Lawo.”

Jonas expects Even to laugh or make fun of him, just like Isak is, but Even just gets something puzzled in his gaze, forehead wrinkling contemplatively for just a second. He seems to regain composure after that, though, as he purses his mouth into an impressed smile and nods.

“That makes for such a great love story,” he says. “Isak, would you help me with the dishes in the kitchen real quick?”

Isak blinks blankly. “Um. Sure.”

Jonas isn’t sure what changes in the kitchen, but Isak has a smug smirk on him every time he looks at Jonas for the rest of the day, and Jonas has no idea what it means.

 

~

 

They’re going out tonight. Isak, Jonas, Mahdi, and Magnus, and they’re going to Jonas’ bar despite Isak having complained numerous times in the past about them needing to visit other places for once, too.

Oh, and Even and all his friends are coming, as well. Including Mikael. Who Jonas hasn’t seen since that fateful time at Isak and Even’s apartment, but who hasn’t quite left his mind yet, either. Jonas’ heart tightens just the smallest bit when he thinks about seeing him again tonight, and that makes him nervous. He thought that thing he’s been feeling should be over by now, and yet he’s still found himself stalking Mikael on social media as recently as last night like he doesn’t possess a single ounce of shame in his body. This is why Jonas doesn’t do crushes. This behaviour is below him.

Another worrying thing is that Isak’s also been inexplicably excited about it, grinning widely as he told Jonas about the plan. Jonas doesn’t trust him at all.

 But, well, it’s not like he’ll protest.

So here they are now, Jonas and Mahdi sitting by the bar and speaking, trying to make out their friends in the crowd. Isak and Even disappeared the moment they arrived and are nowhere to be seen and Magnus got caught up in a pretty girl with a pixie cut a little while ago, and, well, if Jonas is secretly trying to find Mikael, that’s none of anyone’s business. Overall, it’s going pretty well and Jonas allows himself to relax a bit. Maybe there’s no secret agenda behind this. Maybe this is just the place they wanted to go tonight. Maybe Isak was just genuinely excited about going out. Maybe it’s cool.

 

~

 

It’s not cool.

It takes maybe half an hour until Isak is suddenly emerging from the sea of people, clumsily but with a goal, and he doesn’t stop until he’s right in front of Jonas and Mahdi. He looks so unbearably satisfied as he leans in, and Jonas knows his first instincts were right when the blonde opens his mouth and says:

“You should take a trip to the bathrooms. Like, right now. Just trust me.”

And Jonas has no idea what that means, but by the looks of it Isak knows something that he doesn’t and so he finds himself just nodding, exchanging a bewildered look with Mahdi, and leaving in favour of that one stall he’s become familiar with over the past weeks.

The tranquillity of the room, as soon as he closes the door behind him and shuts all the music and high-pitched voices out, is soothing to his ears and mind. Which is good. Jonas needs some soothing right now. With a nervous swing in his steps, he trudges on forward to the stall he’s become so familiar with over the weeks, but when he actually reaches it, he stops dead in his tracks for a second.

There’s already someone in there, and Jonas immediately recognizes his dark prince hair and the gentle curves of his profile.

It’s Mikael.

Mikael is standing in Jonas’ booth, and he’s staring at the wall. Jonas doesn’t know what to say, so he quietly steps in beside him to see what it is that has Mikael’s attention like this.

It’s, unsurprisingly, _the_ wall. Jonas’ wall, with all his writings, and all the strangers’ writings—except now there’s a new sentence scrawled on there, too. It’s huge and bold and deliberately written out above all the other notes, practically yelling at the two boys.

‘ _CONGRATS ON THE FATE, NERDS_ ’, it says. Something carefully clicks in Jonas’ head.

If Mikael is in this exact stall watching this exact thing, Jonas can guess that he’s been told to go here, too. And if Mikael was told to go here, that must mean he has a connection to this place just like Jonas does.

And ‘congrats on the fate, nerds’, well, that sounds like a very Isak things to write. And this whole gesture feels like a very Even thing to construct.

With a blinding white spark of hope alight in his chest, Jonas shuffles slowly so he can look at Mikael only to realize he’s already looking right back, with the same kind of tentative enlightenment. His eyes are wide and they’re deep and Jonas could get lost, but he won’t right now. Because this is an important moment.

“Um…” he starts, fidgeting apprehensively. “So. Explain?”

And just like that, Mikael lights up again, like suns, like stars, like moons, and Jonas thinks he looks like every single sky all at once.

“Vandalising public property for the sake of anti-capitalism is a hobby of yours. Agree or disagree?”

“Agree strongly.”

And they’re both grinning like lunatics by now, eyes jumping between each other and the wall as if they can’t quite believe that this is actually happening—which, Jonas knows he can’t. His heart is pumping out light until he feels like sunshine is pulsating throughout his entire body and shining out through his fingertips and he can’t stop beaming.

“This is fucking unbelievable,” Mikael giggles, and he turns his head into Jonas’ shoulder to dampen his laughter like that’s just the kind of affectionate they are now, and Jonas doesn’t protest at all.

“So. Do you, uh.” He scratches the back of his head as their eyes meet again. “Want a drink?”

Everytime Jonas thinks Mikael’s smile can’t get any more radiant, the boy has a habit of proving him wrong.

“Yeah,” he nods. “Sure.”

 

~

 

“So. Is there an actual reason why you like to scribble socialist propaganda in public places?” he asks lightly, the corners of his mouth perking up teasingly.

Jonas shrugs and gives him a weak grin back.

“I mostly just wanted a discussion. Or to put something there that would make people actually react. You know? It just irritated me that there was so much written on those walls and not a single thing meant something. It’s like—no one _thinks_. It’s that shallow consumerism that bugs me.”

“Wow. Okay, Banksy.”

“Shut _up_.”

Mikael bursts into laughter and Jonas shoves him, but he can’t keep the smile off of his own face, either.

“You wrote back, so you don’t get to say anything.”

“I only wrote back because I thought I was going to have to lecture you on the importance of religion! I didn’t know you’d end up being, like—smart and shit.”

“ _Thanks_ , really.” Jonas rolls his eyes. “You’re all I dreamed you’d be.”

The words are supposed to be sarcastic and funny, but Mikael’s eyes soften with them and Jonas’ breath catches in his throat. It’s quiet for a few moments as Mikael edges closer just a little bit, but Jonas suddenly feels like he’s catching fire with every inch.

“Um,” Mikael begins and Jonas swears he’s looking nervous. “Look, I—I don’t know if I’m reading this whole situation wrong, but, um. I hope there’s at least some truth to that?”

That’s all it takes for the tremble to disappear around Jonas’ heart and a smile poke through his demeanour. It’s also all it takes for him to close the final few centimeters between them and fit their lips together, softly, tryingly, but still connected and tasting.

Judging by the way Mikael’s breath hitches and his hand daringly travels up to Jonas’ neck, Mikael’s been waiting, too.

 

~

 

“Can you just promise me one thing?” Isak says conversationally when they’re sitting on his couch the day after, watching Narcos and nurturing their respective hangovers.

“Sure,” Jonas says without looking away from the TV. 

“There will be no double dating under this roof.”

Isak’s voice is dead serious and Jonas can’t help but look over at him and grin, then. The boy’s got that look on his face that he gets when he’s trying to look authoritative but mostly ends up looking like a disgruntled ten-year-old.

 “That’s okay. I’m sure most double dates would entail a restaurant setting or something away from under this roof, anyway.”

“ _There will be no double dating under this or any other roof_. We both know Even will at one point or another suggest it and I need you to be clear on what exactly you’re going to answer.”

“Got it.” Jonas nods and lies down on his back, locking his hands together behind his neck to support his head. “I’ll tell him that there’ll be no dating under any roof and then I’ll suggest a picnic under the open sky.”

“ _Jonas_!”

**Author's Note:**

> THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE SO SHORT BUT THEN I WANTED TO MAKE IT SO LONG AND THEN I DIDN'T HAVE THE TIME SO IT JUSt fell into a rushed inbetween dvjkshj i hope it was okay anyway  
> i just love the idea of mikael and jonas so :')) here u go. a small contribution. 
> 
> casual reminder that i crave that sweet validation so kudos and comments make me the happiest n most love-filled human to ever walk this planet AND if u wanna talk or just make a small visit or whatever my tumblr is at @tequiladimples xxxxx


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